Prom night

It cannot be easy to be my child.

I am not the mother that many of my amazing mom friends are; the ones who know all the right things to do, who are organized and have the skills to make every event, occasion and holiday a picture-perfect moment.

In the feminine etiquette department, I lack that sophistication. Just ask my daughter. Having said that, you’ll all be very happy to know that I did not screw up her senior prom.

I was determined to make this rite of passage a positive memory for her because she earned it. Four years of high school has come with its share of challenges and I am proud not only of her character, but her candour. She has a sense of herself that I admire.

I wasn’t that cool at her age and I never had a prom. Our graduation celebration was a group of pickup trucks in a circle out in the bush. Yep. I will not disclose any further information because my mom may read this. All I can say is, my daughter is a much smarter teenager than I was, with less desire for risk and void of any attraction to bad boys. If I didn’t birth her, I’d think she was adopted.

One thing my daughter and I do have in common is a lack of desire to go shopping, especially prom dress shopping. We were two deer in the headlights of bling.  One day. Two stores. Five dresses. The fifth one was the winner. Stunning. Sophisticated. Simple. On budget. Done. That’s my girl.

And when she asked if she could wear Dr. Marten boots with it? Absolutely. Did those cool boots break the budget? You bet they did. Did she really wear boots with her gown? No, she did not. She decided she wanted to look classy. Did we return the expensive boots? No, we did not, because they were cool and I was even cooler for buying them. Yep, I’m that parent.  (I have also secretly wanted those same boots because I was a university student in the 90’s and couldn’t afford them).

To ensure my girl looked her best, I enlisted a professional hair dresser well in advance. Worth it. I am what you might call a one-trick pony in the hair department, hence a pony tail was the best I could offer. I knew that wasn’t going to cut it. I’m still emotionally scarred from that time I tried to cut my bangs in a campground washroom. Long story.

I’m equally inept with makeup. I get the general idea, but I shouldn’t be trusted with it. Alas, I asked my son’s girlfriend to do my daughter’s make-up, because she is amazingly talented with all things artistic. Another smart move. Phew. In the end, my daughter was her beautifully authentic self, only all done up. Stunning.

She went to prom with her best friend, a boy I would happily adopt as my own because he is truly an awesome human. I have always taught my daughter that guy pals make the best friends because you always know where you stand. Girl pals are important too, but you need the balance of a best guy buddy. She chose well. They made an adorable pair.

Prom was a success. My daughter had a great night. I had chips and dip waiting when she got home, which means essentially, as far as mom grades go, I earned an A. Pretty proud of that.

Very proud of my girl.

WriteOut of Her Mind